The Houses (1921) Wind whipped orange roofs, errant flames. A writhing, thrusting of coiled greens, vertical whites, like candles dripping with war. One, front-center, the tallest, skinniest boy, eyes startled wide. Carcass of Beef (1924) Chain hung, flooded with blood, bucketed and bought fresh. Who has ever known such red. Marrow-soaked space, thin white strings tied tight to form. Memory’s… Read more →
My boss says my methods make me a dinosaur, doomed to go extinct. Did those majestic reptiles pinch nostrils at the stench of tar pits, resigned to a final plunge? Maybe. But scholars assert the interval between T-Rexes and Stegosauruses exceeded the interval between T-Rexes and homo sapiens. I might last a little while longer. Many of my scales still… Read more →
is a body I hear tapping against the window a leafless body scratching against the door much larger than the bird singing in the lacing forest beyond the window all things are full of gods this body singing from the shadowed ring of trees that is this door where we were carried by the body’s music toward the moon dragging… Read more →
the only externality for the recycle symbol on the toothpaste tube was the cost of the engineer’s hours answering the question can we print the symbol and OK the lawyer’s examining the regs or maybe the engineer had to develop a way to make a tube that met stipulations but there it is seen regularly each morning and evening allowing… Read more →
after Küchenidylle by Anton Ebert A woman’s sunbathed earlobe with— two gold globes deliberately dangled. Her cheek reflects a rose. In front of her, a fat carrot glows. And here, I almost said— something about savoring. A strip of fish pinched in her fingertips. Whiskers glint, a cat’s furred lips & ready tongue. We can always catch the light if—… Read more →
(iiiii iiiii iiiii iiiii iiii) candles form a frame around buttercream roses. i exhale but (i) flame remains thumbing through the great divorce twin engines force forward a valerian breeze. i venture out for an evening stroll but the neighborhood softball games and ice cream truck’s music box jingle melt into golden hour glances on crunchy september lawns grayed street… Read more →
I sift crumbs in sheets, shift in bed as stars tick in the sky. My body moons. It filled with milk my children drank, and now it is black tea. The bitterness of over-steeping wrestles with my tongue. But I have plucked a peach from every day. I’m fuzzy on the details of my life. Its pits pile up inside… Read more →
Sunburned and jet lagged from my Mexican honeymoon, I head to my mom’s house, where she has summoned me to collect some wedding gifts and cards in her care. The photo gallery in her foyer stops me cold. She rearranged it to accommodate a new focal point, a large, framed photo of Chris and me on our wedding day. In… Read more →
Winter when Lily and I take a bath together. Our bodies side-by-side, foot-to-hip. You can make it sexual if you want, but it isn’t. Michael is in the other room reading. The bath water is almost too hot. Lily leans her head against the wall, her hair trailing in the water, the gold beads of her earrings glittering in the… Read more →
the plague comes back — he’s trying to bolt the door — the trial exhausts him — to become water again he gambols with a bottle — come dusk the children ask — when will you return — there is an iron gate before the answer — a haunted house of mercy — an old friend survived a snowstorm —… Read more →